“Bareil Nerys?” Odo found it impossible to keep the shock out of his voice. The name itself sounded alien-somehow wrong.
“Yes.” Nerys smiled. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that. Most Bajorans would know who the Kai’s wife is.”
There were differences between his Nerys and this one; that was evident already. The way she had said that carried no suspicion or rancor, only mild amusement-and a complacent acceptance of the obvious. His Nerys, no matter how wonderful she had been, had been left with a tempered streak of cynicism within her after the end of the Resistance.
She looked at him curiously.
“Do I know you? I’m sorry, but I’m terrible with faces. But you seem…well, familiar, somehow.”
Odo drank in the sight of her, the smell of her…and realized that little of the Nerys he had grown to love was in this woman.
“No,” he answered painfully, truthfully. “You don’t know me.”
She looked unconvinced.
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Here now,” she said comfortingly. “Are you all right? You look a bit sick.”
“Yes,” he choked out. He was indeed.
“Let me help you.” She took his arm gently and at her touch a flood of memories engulfed him, almost causing him to lose his grip on his form. She led him to a nearby bench. “Easy now.”
“Thank you…Mrs. Bareil,” he managed, and something within him cringed again at the name, not because it was wrong, but because deep down it felt right, as if his whole life with her had been a mistake and only now were things being corrected. Bareil Nerys. The name was strange to his ears, but inside his mind there was a subtle click, as if two pieces of a puzzle that had been missing suddenly fit together. This is how things should have been for her.
He smiled weakly at her.
“I’ll be all right now, thank you.”
She looked doubtful.
“I don’t know. You’re awfully pale.”
It was something he had to work on, he knew. The more elaborate the form he assumed, the more difficult it was to ensure a realistic coloring.
“No, I’m sure. I’m fine.”
“Well…all right.” She looked at her watch-chronometer, and her eyes widened. “Oh dear. I’m late. I was supposed to be at that tennis banquet ten minutes ago. I’ve got to go.” She stood quickly, then paused and looked back at him. “Listen,” she said slowly, “why don’t you come? The banquet’s for guests only, but I’m sure I could get you a seat.”
Odo looked up, bewildered.
“Why?”
Nerys looked a little perplexed herself.
“Well…you look like you could use a friend, and I’m actually pretty good at that kind of think. It might cheer you up.”
Looking at her face, and the concern in her eyes, Odo felt himself relent. They aren’t so different after all.
“All right,” he heard himself accept, much to his surprise.
“Wonderful!” She truly looked glad. “Come on then…” She laughed. “Oh Prophets, I don’t even know your name!”
Bareil Nerys probably didn’t know any Cardassian, and there was really no reason to lie.
“Odo,” he said. “Odo Ital.”
(-|-)
They were sitting at a table, hidden in a far corner of Quark’s. O’Brien was nursing a drink while Julian and Dax waited. All three felt a thousand different things, all unwilling to utter any of them lest they become true. Finally, Julian couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Miles, what’s wrong?”
“You said Odo used a portable transporter?”
“Yes.”
O’Brien stared at his drink. It was a long time before he spoke again.
“The specs I sent Odo were for the major transporters, like on this station, starships, stuff like that. But, if he was using a portable, there’s a good chance that the circuitry’s shot from an overload.”
“But if the circuitry’s shot…” started Bashir.
“…then there’s no way for Odo to come back, if he wants to,” finished Jadzia.
An unfinished drink sat on the table, surrounded by unfinished thoughts, unfinished wishes. With one gulp of his drink, O’Brien got rid of everything left undone, unsaid.
“I guess we’d better find that transporter device.”
The three got up and left Quark’s, leaving one empty glass, and three empty fears behind. From now on, it was all or nothing.
(-|-)
The banquet hall was full. More than a hundred people crowded the elaborate dining room. Odo found himself at a table not too far from the head table. He could see Nerys clearly, seated next to the Eminence. She was laughing, smiling, enjoying herself. Odo had missed that from his Nerys the last few years. The disease had slowly taken its toll on her. She was still, and would always be, his Nerys. No one could tell him otherwise. No one could ever take her place in his life, because no one could take her place in his memories. Not even Nerys herself.
They were beginning to serve the food. Perhaps he could slip out now, if he was careful. He excused himself from his table and walked towards the exit. A pair of brown eyes watched him leave, knowing full well that she would probably never again see this Odo Ital.
(-|-)
On a station, hanging in space like a spider on its web, sat a Cardassian subcommander. He waited, patiently, for his ship to be refitted. And yet, a tinge of anxiety shrouded him. Words of an enemy echoed in his mind: Garak, you are a fool. He could swear he heard the maniacal laughter characteristic of that fiend through the tens of thousands of light years of vacuum separating them. And then Garak knew that soon would come his time for revenge, for revenge and for duty, against the one his kind had named Odoital.
(-|-)
The memories haunted him. Even here, as he sat in his command chair staring at endless reports and schematics, they haunted him. He remembered little of the beginning of his voyage. Only that he was being sent far away. The creatures who had found him had been strange looking to say the least. They were also completely ignorant of what he was.
Days upon days he had sat there, in a jar of glass, absorbing their movements, their language. Weeks upon weeks he had endured their endless tests. Months upon months he had experimented when no one else had been around. A hand here. A…what was the word? Ah, yes. A foot there. He gave up on their faces. They were too ridden with bumps and ridges, around the eyes, down the nose, down the neck.
He had waited. Then one day, he had waited long enough. He waited still a moment longer until they were studying him. Then he had oozed from his jar into a humanoid form. He had four limbs, like them, with five digits on the end of each limb. He was dressed in a simple brown wrap. The face showed the only difference. His was slick, smooth, showing no signs of age or emotion.
He walked over to a nearby computer and called up the anatomy of those who had found him. He found how they lived, how they breathed. But more importantly, he found how they spoke. He felt the change inside of him and opened his mouth to speak.
(-|-)
They entered the house. Perhaps there would be some clue there. Bashir noticed the unlocked entrance and stopped dead in his tracks. He had had to stop himself from calling out to remind Odo to engage the identilock.
“Julian, are you all right?” asked Jadzia. He waved her off. This was no time for sentimentality. They had work to do. Julian headed straight for the gathering room where he had last seen Odo, working on the transporter.
The room was strewn with schematic PADDs, tools, parts, even a few paper plans. It looked deserted, lonely in a house once full of memories. Now, each word echoed a million times over.
“Where would he have gone, Julian?” asked O’Brien.
“Someplace where no one would see him or bother him.”
“Didn’t I see a field when we beamed down?”
“Good a place as any.”
They went to leave, and Julian paused again. On the table he eyed a Bajoran memory candle. He barely recognized it, the numerous holes making it seem impossible that the candle could still be standing. And yet Bashir drew strength from that, knowing that there was still a part of Odo that would want to come back to these memories and his Nerys. He only hoped that that would be enough.
The field was about 100 meters from the house. Beautiful bat’wi trees edged it in the distance. The sun, now behind them, had already started its descent. Dax and O’Brien both took out their tricorders.
“There seems to be a lot of metal in this area, probably left over from the Occupation,” announced Dax.
“Still?” questioned O’Brien. “I woulda thought they would have gotten that cleaned up by now.”
“Well, Chief, some out of the way field probably wasn’t top priority for the Bajorans,” commented Julian.
“Try scanning for any transporter or interdimensional-shifting residual,” continued Dax.
“I’m picking up our own residual, but nothing else.”
Bashir muttered something incomprehensible.
“Be very careful, Chief. If Odo did indeed use a transporter, it was probably over a day ago. The signal might be pretty faint.”
“The two spent the next fifteen minutes carefully searching every millimeter of the field.
“Wait a minute. I…”
“What is it, Chief?” asked Dax as Bashir and herself joined him.
“Well, I thought I caught some residual traces about 30 meters to the west. But they’re gone now.”
“Well, it’s the only lead we’ve had so far. Let’s go.”
The three set off for the sight of O’Brien’s sighting.
“Ow!” cried Bashir as he fell to the ground. He laid there, holding his shin.
“Julian, are you all right?”
“Yah, yah. I think I’ve found our transporter.”
Dax looked up from Julian and saw the transporter, half hidden in the tall grass. O’Brien took off a side panel.
“Well, I was right. The circuitry’s overloaded. I’m gonna have to replace about half the circuits for there to even be the chance of this thing working again…O’Brien to Galen. Transport down the tools I asked for down to my coordinates.”
“Acknowledged, sir. Energizing.”
A very large ensemble of things appeared next to O’Brien.
“Why don’t you just transport it up to the Galen and work on it there, Chief?”
“I’m still not certain about every aspect of this thing. If I don’t keep it exactly here, I don’t know if it’ll work or not. Never hurt anybody to be cautious. Well, here goes nothing.” And he started his work.
(-|-)
As Odo went to leave it, a group of very enthusiastic, very pretty women approached the hall. They all paused at the entrance, looking at the throngs of people.
“Oh my gosh! There he is!” screamed their leader. And once again Odo had to literally keep his jaw from hitting the floor. For the leader of this groups, all dressed in Bashir memorabilia, was none other than Jadzia Dax.
This is just too much, thought Odo. He watched as the groups tried to reach the head table. Most were apprehended by security before making it halfway. Jadzia, on the other hand, was still deft at Klingon martial arts as she weaved her way through tables toward “<sigh> Julian” as all of the group had referred to him.
Jadzia Dax, a woman, as Odo knew her, who was sensible, wise, confident, and sure, found herself face to face with Julian Bashir.
“Hello,” was all he said, smiling sincerely. But it was enough, enough to make this Jadzia Dax…faint.
(-|-)
He could see a faint glimmer of light as he looked out the window. The Chief hadn’t even stopped working for the darkness. A few lights, and it was back to work. But soon, even the Chief would have to stop from hunger, thirstiness, fatigue. Julian only hoped that, as a doctor, he wouldn’t have to order him to stop.
The room he was in was dark. He didn’t want to have to encounter anything at the moment to remind himself of the link that had been broken. It seemed that Odo’s strongest link had been to Kira, even when they had only been friends, but even then, it had been strong enough to make him shun his people and their ways. Julian had always marveled at that. There had never really been anybody like that for him, well, anybody that stayed around. Jadzia was a good friend, and Julian felt close to her, but they were more like siblings than anything else. What would he do if he had that kind of link with someone, and then lost it, after depending on it for so long? He didn’t have to imagine; he knew. And the thought made him shudder.
(-|-)
This world offered nothing for him; he knew that now. He had hoped to find something he had lost, but what he had lost did not exist here. He slipped to a remote alley and forced the small activator out from inside himself. With one last look at the world he was leaving behind, he pressed the button that would return him to his life.
(-|-)
“What the bloody hell?!” yelled O’Brien, scrambling back away from the transporter.
“What is it, Chief?” asked Dax.
“Well, I dunno. Something’s overloaded the circuitry again, worse than before. I only had about a tenth of it fixed, but those got overloaded, and the overloaded circuits got overloaded again…”
“Okay, okay,” said Dax, waving her hands. “I get the picture. How long?”
“Oh, I don’t even know. It’s gonna be a couple of days this time.”
“Well, then a few hours won’t matter. I want you to get some rest, Chief.”
“Sounds tempting, but I want to find out what caused that overload.”
“Oh no. You’ll get more sleep wondering about what caused it than you will trying new ideas of how to keep it from happening again.”
“Man, when did you get to know me so well?”
“You haven’t changed that much in ten years, Miles.”
“Guilty as charged. All right, just make sure I don’t pull a Rip Van Winkle.”
“Who?”
“Just a guy who took a twenty-year nap.”
“Don’t worry, Miles. I won’t let you sleep anymore than fifteen years.”
“Thanks,” grinned O’Brien. “O’Brien to Galen. One to beam up.”
Dax watched him sparkle away. She turned off each of the lights and took one hopeful glimpse at the transporter. And with that, she too called for transport.
(-|-)
He pushed the button again. Nothing. Something was definitely wrong. He should have been back by now. Yet, here he was, still standing in the alley. He checked the activator as thoroughly as possible. Nothing was wrong with it, which meant something was wrong with the transporter itself. Odo hung his head.
So, unless somebody fixes it, I’m stuck here. The prospect wasn’t that disappointing, but still. Home was still home, and this wasn’t home. It was going to be time for him to rejuvenate soon, but where could he stay? He had no credits, no friends. Or did he?
By the time he had returned to the hall, the waiters were clearing the plates off the tables. Many of the people had moved to the dancing hall. But Odo spotted who he wanted to talk to. She was still chatting amiably with Julian and some others. Apparently Julian had invited Jadzia to be his guest, by pity or good-nature, Odo couldn’t tell.
“Excuse me,” Odo said, approaching the table slowly. Nerys turned and was both surprised and relieved to see him again.
“Oh, you came back! I’m so glad. Let me introduce you to our guest of honor. Odo Ital, this is Mister Julian Bashir. Mr. Bashir, Odo Ital.”
“A pleasure, Doc…Mister Bashir.” Odo cursed himself. He was going to have to be careful.
“Likewise, Odo.”
Odo turned towards Nerys.
“May I speak with you?”
Nerys smiled. “Of course, Odo. If you’ll all excuse me…” she said, the latter part addressing everyone. She stepped down and gestured for Odo to follow her. They walked an intricate path through hallways until they reached a courtyard.
“Now, Odo, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Well, I…I don’t mean to impose, but…”
“But what?”
“Never mind. I have no right to ask any favors of you.”
“Odo, I don’t know why, but I feel as if I’ve known you for a long time. You can ask anything of me.”
“Well, first, may I call you Nerys?”
“If it makes you more comfortable.”
“It does,” sighed Odo, with relief. He knew he couldn’t say Mrs. Bareil once more. “Thank you, Nerys. But, I still don’t have the right to ask any favors.”
“Odo, if you don’t, how can I say yes?”
Odo smiled. How sure could she be that she would say yes?
“I don’t have a place to stay while I’m here in the capital, and I don’t have any credits on me.”
“Is that all? You can stay at my house. I’m sure Bareil won’t mind.”
“Thank you, Nerys. I’ll work for my share.”
“Nonsense. You’ll be a guest. Besides, the children will love a visitor, that is, if you don’t mind children?”
“No, not at all,” said Odo, barely keeping the lump out of his throat.
“Good, it’s settled then. I was just about ready to leave. These functions are always so boring. Although that Bashir is quite the fellow. He really can talk a good talk. And that young lady, oh what was her name?”
“Jadzia.”
“Oh yes. That’s it. She really…wait a minute. Do you know her? I didn’t introduce you two.”
Damn, thought Odo. Another slip like that, and you’ll really be in hot water.
“I overheard her name. It’s a very pretty name, don’t you think?” he fumbled, trying to change the subject.
“Yes, it is,” replied Nerys, without hesitation. “Now, what were we talking about?”
“You said you were just about ready to leave.”
“Ah yes. That’s it. So, shall we?” She led the way to a nearby pad. Odo hesitated. “Oh, don’t worry, Odo. It’s just a transporter.”
Odo hesitated before stepping up onto it. He felt a faintly familiar tingle, and the courtyard disappeared before him…
…to be replaced by a small cottage. Three children rushed up to meet them.
“Mother!”
“Hello, Mother!”
“Who’s the stranger, Mother?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. One at a time,” Nerys said, stepping down to meet her children. “This is a friend of mine, Odo Ital.”
“Hello,” the children replied in unison.
“Hello,” replied Odo, somewhat hesitantly stepping down into a living room.
“Odo, these are my children, if you haven’t already guessed. My daughter, Jatira, and my sons, Rjand and Kerjio.”
“Mother, Kerjio hit me.”
“Did not. Rjand hit me.”
“I don’t care. It’s time for bed for the both of you anyways. Go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’ll be right up.” Nerys shook her head. “Jatira, would you show Odo around while I deal with your siblings.”
“Yes, Mother,” smiled Jatira. She knew her mother would not have an easy time of it. “This way, Mr. Odo.”
“You can just call me Odo, Jatira.”
Nerys smiled in gratitude that Jatira was such an amiable girl, but the smile faded as a scream echoed through the upstairs.
“Mommy! Kerjy hit me!”
“Did not!”
Nerys took a deep breath.
“I thought I told you both to get ready for bed!” she shouted, heading up the stairs.
(-|-)
Jatira showed Odo around the entire house, where the guest quarters were, were the kitchen was should he get hungry, and where the gathering room was.
Odo found himself assessing this young girl. She was about thirteen, with red hair down to her waist. She was almost as tall as her mother already, and bore an uncanny resemblance to her. It caught Odo offguard.
“Is something wrong, Odo?”
“What? Oh, no, Jatira. You just look so much like your mother.”
“Oh. Odo, could you call me Jaty? Nobody uses Jatira unless I’m being introduced to someone, or in trouble.”
Odo smiled. He wondered just how much trouble Jaty got in to.
“Okay, Jaty. What about your brothers?”
“Oh, they like their full names. Makes ’em feel grown up.”
“I see.”
Just then, Nerys came down the stairs, mumbling something that Odo couldn’t quite make out. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. She stopped when she realized they were both standing right there.
“Oh! I didn’t realize…I’m sorry. Two boys can be quite a handful.”
“You better hope for another girl then, Mother.”
Nerys smiled, and then apologized again as she saw how uncomfortable Odo was.
“Jaty, is your father home yet?”
“No.”
“I figured as much. Being the Kai means you can’t get out of those functions quite as easily as being the Kai’s wife. Well, it’s been a long day. Jaty, you should be off to bed as well.”
“Yes, Mother,” she said, somewhat wearily.
“Seems like you don’t have to worry too much about her.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” answered Nerys, leading them into the gathering room. “She’s had her fair share of trouble. She’s got a lot of pressure riding her shoulders. Always in the spotlight for being the Kai’s daughter. It’s not fair for a little girl to have to go through that.”
Odo smiled sadly. If only Nerys knew what the children on his Bajor had had to endure. He wondered what thoughts would occupy her every thought, her every movement then.
“Now, Odo…you don’t mind Odo, do you? Your given name, Ital, just doesn’t sound right to me. I can’t explain it.” Odo shook his head. He was relieved. Ital didn’t sound right to him either. No one had ever used it, because barely anybody had known. Not even Nerys.
“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, why don’t you tell me all about yourself.”
“Well, I…” What could he say? That he had married a woman who was sitting before him, and yet not. Perhaps, if he was vague enough. “Well, I was marrried, but she di…” He still couldn’t bring himself to say it, not yet. “She walks with the Prophets now.”
“Oh,” said Nerys, sorry for his loss and for making him face it. “How…how long ago?”
“Three days.”
“Oh,” said Nerys again, a little shocked. She hadn’t anticipated such a burden to be riding this man’s shoulders. “Well, a…why don’t you tell me about her? What was her name?”
“I can’t tell you,” said Odo. It was as simple as that.
“Sure you can, Odo. I feel like I’ve known you for ages, I’ve already told you that. Think of me as one of your best friends.”
A new and fresh sorrow covered Odo’s face. It wasn’t that far of a stretch for him. Nerys had been his best friend. Perhaps he could pretend for just awhile longer.
“Her name was…” He took a large breath. “…Nerys.”
It took a split second for Nerys to figure out that Odo was not addressing her, but in fact was telling her what she had wanted to know. Odo wanted to continue, but to do that, he would have to remember. Nerys herself was dumbfounded. Was it just coincidence?
“Do I…do I remind you of her, Odo?” she asked hesitantly.
Odo found himself laughing. He couldn’t help it. Nerys asked the question so innocently. There was so much she didn’t know. What he wouldn’t give for her ignorance. But the laughter frightened Nerys, for she heard in it the pain and grief that could drive a man insane.
“You must be tired. I’ll let you get some rest. Breakfast is usually around 8:00. If you want a midnight snack or anything, help yourself. I should warn you, though, that Bareil sleepwalks.”
At the mention of that name, Odo’s chuckling stopped. Nerys couldn’t help but stare at him questioningly.
“Yes, perhaps you are right. I am feeling rather tired. Good night, Nerys.”
“Good night, Odo.”
In the guest quarters, Odo went into the bathroom and sank into the tub. It would do him no good to be discovered. The trust he had earned would be shattered, and he would never do that to Nerys, real or not. But none of that mattered right now. Right now, all that mattered was rest, rest that Odo accepted gratefully.
(-|-)